


Body Language

by kosmickway (KMDWriterGrl)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/kosmickway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing them all in a group setting lent new definition to each person’s distinct personality and body language. An "ensemble" piece and a follow-up to "Debate Camp."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Language

It really was interesting what body language said about people, CJ mused, looking around the outdoor dining pavilion at her friends and colleagues.  Of particular interest at the moment were Joey Lucas and her assistant, Kenny. They were off in a world all their own, hands busily working through the air, flying around in movements she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. How intimate to share so much with someone, to constantly rely on them for information, to trust that they’re telling you exactly what you need to know. 

She had been marveling at them earlier as Joey spoke to the President, noting the way Kenny read the movements of Joey’s hands so easily, the way he was forever adjusting his body position to hers so that he could read her face and hands without being in her way. How amazing that his voice had, in all of their minds, become hers; how Kenny and Joey seemed to be one person instead of two. 

It must be difficult for Kenny, she thought, and wondered if he was used to the fact that most everyone talked directly to Joey instead of to him. He was the conduit through which all communication for Joey was facilitated. He received all of her hellos, goodbyes, and questions about her welfare. Did Kenny even get more than a perfunctory hello from anyone? Did he ever wish that he could participate in a conversation as himself instead of the voice for Joey Lucas?

Was he ever “off” or did he find himself always watching her mouth, her hands, to interpret her meaning? Did he forever shadow her, lending voice to the hundreds of daily interactions that occurred in a high tech world? Did he go to the grocery store with her and pass on her request for canned pumpkin to the clerk? Did he accompany her shopping to communicate her needs when she decided to pick up a new blouse for work? How many hours every day was Kenny “on-call” and how many was he able to spend with his own thoughts, his own ideas, his own needs and wants? 

She watched Josh walk over to Joey and lean in to speak to her, planting himself in front of her so that she could read his lips. She watched Kenny relax back in his chair just a fraction of an inch, knowing, perhaps, that an interaction between Josh and Joey was easier than most of her interactions with other people. CJ watched Kenny, his eyes alert, his hands poised in front of him, and wondered how much of his life belonged to Joey and how much belonged to him.

It wasn’t just Joey and Kenny she found herself watching. It was all of them, the whole team. Seeing them all in a group setting, watching them interact with the President and with each other outside the rigid confines of the White House lent new definition to each person’s distinct personality and body language. 

Sam, she noticed, tended to look more comfortable in a suit and tie these days than he did in the jeans and t-shirt he was sporting for debate camp. Though he was aggressive and pugnacious with the President, constantly doing as Toby ordered by “getting in his face,” Sam still wore the typical kid-in-the-back-of-the-class expression that was so familiar to CJ– shoulders hunched, head slightly bowed, the way a smart kid who wants nothing more than to go unnoticed will slump in the back of the classroom. 

Toby, too, wore the smart-kid-who-wants-to-hide expression, more so in the recent days than usual. It was chiefly because he spent so much time exhibiting his intelligence– as one of the premiere speech-writers in the nation, he regularly felt like the smart kid dragged up in front of the class to show off. It wasn’t that Toby wasn’t confident in his intelligence, nor did he particularly mind parading it for the world to see– it was that in places like debate camp, he felt awkward being a perfectionist and a stickler where everyone could see and comment on it. Plus it meant he went head-to-head with the President on a regular basis, something that routinely made all of them feel like intellectual 98-pound weaklings. 

Josh was the only member of the team who didn’t regularly exhibit the smart-kid-as-deer-in-headlights look and mannerisms but that wasn’t because he wasn’t a member of the intelligentsia– rather it was that he didn’t let those feelings phase him. Josh had been the smart kid, yes, but he’d also been one of the rare smart kids who didn’t invite much in the way of ridicule because he had an attitude to back it up. Josh would be the first to admit that he wasn’t AS smart– that CJ had a higher IQ, that Sam had graduated with higher honors, that Toby had a quicker intellect straight off the block– but it didn’t phase him because he was good enough to be where he was and esteemed for his opinions and values. Josh didn’t need to hunch his shoulders and slouch in his chair, then or now. 

Which left her, CJ Cregg, also a bullied smart kid, doubly bullied because of her height. Anyone looking at her would notice that, despite her confident demeanor, there were times when she slouched, as most tall people did because they felt embarrassed to tower over others. Toby had always ribbed her for the way she tended to talk with her hands when not in front of the press, the way she gave everything an expressive gesture. She knew her body language changed around each person on staff– with the President she was confident, but guarded, ready to either defend her decisions or explain them in a polite, deferential manner. With Charlie and Josh, the pranksters of the senior staff, she tended to be more open, almost cocky, throwing enough of a swagger into her step to let them know she was no one to be trifled with. With Sam she was all business, and usually so caught up in whatever puzzle or rhetoric he was spinning that she dropped any previous posture she’d adopted and went with the flow of conversation. Around Toby she was at her most relaxed, despite their tendency to end conversations in shouting matches. With Toby she could, even briefly, be vulnerable, could let her hair down. With Toby she never felt awkward. 

She went back to studying Joey and Kenny, watching how he leaned in to her to catch every gesture, the way his hands flew like birds, graceful and powerful. Joey threw back her head and laughed, a silent laugh that made itself known only by the wide smile on her face, the arch of her throat, the way her body rocked forward into an eager “keep talking to me” pose as she signed a response to Kenny.

She watched Josh and Sam lope off toward the basketball court, shoulders relaxed, hands in motion as they tossed the ball back and forth, not staffers now but two friends ready for a serious game of ball. 

She watched Toby watching Andi from across the roam, noted the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers plucked at his sleeves, the way his mouth turned up at the corners as he studied her, affectionate and irritated. 

And she noted her own body as she watched the others, noting that she was, as usual, starting to slouch, a too tall woman who was thinking too much. 


End file.
